They made a statue of us

Monday, 8 October 2012


I've always written. It's not exactly my forté and has mostly (especially more so in recent years) just been something to accompany photographs when it's not long, rambly and in my private diary. But one way or another, I've always documented my life with words. So to go for so long without as much as a peep has been weird, to say the least. Call it kind of a 'block', perhaps - I like to write as honest as I can and if I can be honest right now, I haven't much wanted to be truthful for the past few months. Because for me writing can be both a therapeutic dip into a dream word, and also a sign of reality. Reality isn't something I've wanted to face much at all. Putting everything out there on paper (or in a text box) is as real as you can get in my book, and it confirms everything that I never actually wanted to happen. So this is without a doubt the most difficult and emotional thing I have ever had to write.

In July, I broke up with Phil - my other half for four years almost to the day. I ended my pretty much perfect relationship and left somebody I never ever wanted to hurt with a broken heart. And in the process, wrecked my own as well.

It hasn't been easy. It was something preying on my mind for quite a while and indeed the hardest decision I have ever had to undertake. It wasn't something that I took lightly - I fought tooth & nail for my relationship every single day because, believe me, there was nothing I wanted more than for it to work. But as it goes it all got too much to bear and when I just sat down and realised in my heart that everything was all wrong, I exploded.

I regret some things. I'm a fighter, as a lot of people in my life are aware, but a lot of the time I'm choosing to fight alone. Even in this case. Which was probably the kiss of death - you're supposed to work as a team in a relationship and I worked alone, and I regret not talking more. I've never been a brilliant communicator of my own emotions (this has stemmed from my growing up) and I guess that's at least a lesson learned for the future - I have to talk more. I also regret not conveying my feelings on certain situations in our lives, such as trying to buy a flat which I was clearly not ready to do. I'm actually pretty mad at myself for this as it's probably the most reckless, stupid thing I've ever done. A flat is a lot of money.

And so everything's changed. We untangled our interwoven lives. I moved out of our flat that we shared for almost three years, that I never ever wanted to leave. I picked up all my things, put them into boxes, and had to sift through years and years worth of mementos and memories and it completely destroyed my soul. I now live alone in a room on a hill house, also a two minute walk from my shop but in the opposite direction. I haven't unpacked my boxes yet. I can't even bear to think about tomorrow or next week or the month after - just seemingly living on a day-to-day basis, waiting to see what will happen and trying to fill my time with as many friendly faces as possible. I lived on a sofa for two months, took myself out every night - if I dared to stay in, I would just cry myself to sleep. The weirdest things still make me spontaneously burst into tears - adverts, injokes, the most unlikeliest of songs (Sum 41 & Andrew WK, anybody?) I've lost weight drastically and put it all back on again and got acne and been so sick, even I wonder how I'm still functioning. I guess I'm stronger than I've ever realised. I live for work now, which I guess could sound quite sad but it's literally been all I've had to cling onto. I honestly don't know where I would be without it. It's given me a reason to keep going.

Sadly I have not had the best time with friends or family the past few months. Most think I've either lost the plot (maybe) or had any kind of an affair (absolutely not) and I've had a hard time communicating because of that. I've divulged my feelings and thoughts which I give away like a secret and then later discovered that they're all out in the open. Completely exposed. That's not fair. And people wonder why I've basically shut down. The most unlikely unexpected people have been there to pick me up when I've been completely broken and I have no way of ever thanking them enough but I'll find a way.

As for finding my way? In truth, I don't even know what's been going through my head. It spins, and my heart hurts, and my stomach twists into knots. I don't know what all of this is for or even what I want. All I know is, I hurt my best friend. A lot. And I can never be sorry enough. Never, ever, ever. I hope someday - somehow - I can fix this. I really, really do.